The Skye Boat Song

Speed bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward, the sailors cry
Carry the lad that’s born to be king
Over the sea to skye
Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar,
Thunder clouds rend the air;
Baffled our foe’s stand on the shore
Follow they will not dare
Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep
Ocean’s a royal bed
Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep
Watch by your weary head
Many’s the lad fought on that day
Well the claymore could wield
When the night came, silently lay
Dead on Culloden’s field
Burned are our homes, exile and death
Scatter the loyal men
Yet, e’er the sword cool in the sheath,
Charlie will come again.
shores when Flora MacDonald took him, disguised as a serving maid,
from Uist to Skye in a small boat.
Flora is buried at Kilmuir on the north coast of Skye. Prince Charlie
near Rome where he was born.
Words by Sir Harold Boulton, Bart., 1884. Music by Annie
MacLeod.